


Struck

by turva_auto



Series: Jääkiekko - ice hockey [5]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Epilepsy, Fluff and Angst, Health Issues, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Seizures, also Patrick being soppy and a little depressed with selfish issues, edited and reworked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 12:31:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4305201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turva_auto/pseuds/turva_auto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A blow forces Jonny and Patrick to come clean to each other after a blazing fight. In the face of possible permanent damage they finally acknowledge their mutual feelings. </p><p>Or: Jonny doesn't like doctors and takes unnecessary risks and Patrick saves his ass yet again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Struck

**Author's Note:**

> I rewrote and edited this fic I first posted on here in 2015. Ever since I was not pleased with the outcome.  
> Back then I just wanted to write something depressing and down right hurting for personal reasons.  
> I would never wish anything bad to happen to any of them of course and most of the descriptions are taken from my own experience. A lot of hand waving on the medical inaccuracies, since I'm not a professional and can only supply my muddled kind of version from the parts i do remember.  
> If you have problems with any of the tagged warnings please watch out for yourself and leave, same goes for if you came across this by Google searching yourself...just leave it - THANK YOU!  
> 

The regular season had ended leaving the Chicago Blackhawks with media events and practices, open ones as well ad optional's to fill their time in between resting up. They were due for the play-offs kicking in, having entered 2nd in their division and they were thirsty for Lord Stanley but so was everyone else in the league. One of the hardest opponents to take down as usual would be facing the Nashville Predators in round two. They would be up against the Minnesota Wild in the first round, but having handed them their asses each time during the regular season was almost no reason to sweat about NOT advancing in the series.

Statistics aside, they had some injury fall outs to cover, but from the look of things, everybody should at least be able to kick start and return just in time for play-off season, when all their attention was necessary to reach the one goal.

Everybody? Well obviously not!

Captain Serious had been a rare sight in the past three days and Patrick was nursing some bad feelings about this. Usually Jonny would rather die than miss out on anything! He might still have some issues left with his sore shoulder, from Stamkos chucking him into the boards a few days ago, but Jonny wasn't a wimp and the doctors had cleared him for contact two days after the hit. Nothing he couldn't soothe with an icepack. So far so good apart from how he wouldn't answer any of Kaner's text, nor his calls and well, since they had a little fall out after the last game, Kaner wasn't about to simply use the key and march into Jonny's condor uninvited.

He could! Oh damn and he did multiple times before, but let's just leave it at: he learned his lessons coming face to face with a naked Jonny up for action. A sight to behold but awkwardness would follow in its wake.

Everything in him was itching to do just that, intrude on Jonny's privacy, force Tazer to talk to him, force him to admit to all the stupid shit he had pulled or confess his never ending love, something, anything along those lines would be fine. Given he would finally say something, because it was driving Patrick up the walls. Whatever it took to see Jonny smile in his clipped lazy way he always does, when it was something Kaner was regretting, finally begging Jonathan to see sense and forgive him for being a nut job. Just one sign, a single one, was that too much to ask for?

So many options, so many ways this confrontation could have ended up but neither of these were on the table.

Or at least that's what Patrick told himself. He was dreading to watch the latest episode of Cards together with Jonny among other things like admiring Jonny's physique in silence, or watch his thighs twitch, or dream about kissing the living daylight out of him. But that wasn't enough of a desire to go and admit that he had wronged his best pal. That Parick had not only been a total ass but wrong all the same and he had treated Jonny like he wouldn't even treat a stranger, left alone any of his sisters. It was supposed to have been some stupid mouthing off in the locker room and somehow ended into chaos. He had fucked up. He had fucked up really good this time around.

After lazing around in the never ending sun of hot early Chicago summer he had enough room to finally come to terms with his crush and that their argument wasn't even important to risk a bitch fight like that. He wanted to keep Jonny as his best friend if nothing else, even if his heart ached for confirmation. He couldn't keep pushing him to admit to his own feelings. He rather deal with oblivious Toews until the day he'd die.

What if Jonny wasn't even having feelings for him? Hearing him say that Patrick was just like a brother to him would only double the hurt, twist the knife a little more, deeper and deeper into his craving heart. It was a suicide mission at best.

Maybe if he wouldn't have pushed Jonny that much, maybe if he would have waited a little longer or used another phrase then: „You don't fucking know me at all Jonathan fucking Toews! You claim to be my best friend? You don't know shit about me you selfish prick! You're way to deep up your own ass to even seee the sun if it glares right in your face dude!“ to make Jonny realize how much under way Patrick was for him...yeah maybe then Jonny wouldn't be pissed off with him, wouldn't have walked out on him like he wouldn't even fucking exist.

Jonathan Bryan Toews would answer his goddamn phone, would answer his fucking texts and would show up for motherfucking practice.

That's it! Most of all Jonny would still be his friend. Being cut off like this was worse than helplessly pinning after his captain.

Huffing out a frustrated puff Kaner rolled over on the sunbed, twisting the towel over his head a little to the left to wipe away some sweat as he launched on the roof top of his condo. They both were so incredibly fucking stupid and way too proud for their own damn good. He was uptight just as much as Jonny was and had no business to attack him like he did.

He started another game of Candy Crush on his phone to distract his over flowing never ending thoughts.

It would be better if he got Jonny out of his head, better for everybody and wasn't it typical for Jon to demand for everyone to be better? Yeah must be it! He had to get over it and be better. If not for himself, then at least be better for Jon.

* * *

It's been the 3rd day of Jonny waking up in the morning feeling like shit. Three days since he has had that childish argument with Kaner over nothing important in general. He couldn't even remember what they'd been arguing about. All he knew was that he'd felt ill. His head had been killing him and nausea was retching and giving him a sore throat on top of that. His limbs felt like lead and overall he was resembling death warmed over twice.

Lying in bed trying to puzzle together the bits and pieces he remembered now. The memory still hazy at best, kind of blurry around the edges and missing some vital pieces for sure. He'd had been having another assholish headache and just wanted to go home so badly after practice. Kaner was just being Kaner perse - noisy as fuck, demanding, attention seeking little Peekaboo trying to chirp him and get under his skin like he had billion times before and it had been too much for Jonny's head. So he just flipped his shit in the middle of the locker room and stormed off, leaving them all behind in stunned silence, not even Sharpy had dared to crack a joke about them sorting out their junks to air out the crap that got lodged between their brain and mouth filters.

Jonathan rolled over onto his side in the provided darkness of his master bedroom, his groan echoing off the walls aggravating his pain. All curtains drawn tight, refusing entry to the tiniest ray of light as best as possible and it was stuffy and too hot as well. A left over mix from not really airing out during the night in the summer heat and his broken AC, that he actually wanted to get fixed for months now but never came around to. The warmth usually giving him an excuse why he was sweating so much whenever Kaner was over, snuggled up to him on the couch in the living room watching another episode of Cards. It had been easy to pretend that it was the air con's fault and not his feelings fucking with his head and his body's response to his own confused hormones.

But he was currently in no condition to think straight left alone sort his feelings out, while his head felt as if someone would have set it on fire. A burning feeling at the edge of his hairline spreading all over his scalp into a blooming murderous sharp poking like thunder at the base of his skull that seemed to stab right through and exit through his eye sockets. It brought him to his knees, making him puke his guts out all night long. It didn't matter what he tried, the Advil wasn't even able to help him ease before it was making a reappearance in his porcelain bowl. Nothing he tried to eat would linger longer than a few minutes, neither Gatorade nor tea. Even water seemed to upset his stomach  and while time stretched in fits of coughing and spiting acid, Jonny had accepted the toilet bowl as his next best keen for the night.

He had realized that whatever persistent stomach bug he had caught, was on the list of needing treatment by the team doctors, it hadn't vanished as Jonny had been hoping it would have. It wasn't something that he could put off any longer as „curing itself“. By now he was too desperate to deal with it all by himself so if he needed to stop by at Dr. Terry's office first thing in the morning to get better than so be it.He was fucking done with this shit and with feeling like shit anyway.

As dawn was rising outside Jonny dragged himself out of bed, with his head spinning, sweating heavily, stumbling yet again  into the en suite he had left for what felt like maybe 10 minutes ago to shower and get dressed, before taking himself to the United Center and therefor into the capable hands of their team doctors. The concept of time itself had lost all meaning to him by now considering how confused he felt. His body acting on autopilot and instinct rather than conscious decisions.

Jonathan would get better in no time for play-offs. Maybe it was just a late  -  very late - left over from his concussion, but then again this headache was nothing like the migraines he suffered after that. The memory of it too fresh to have vanished yet. Jonny tried to console himself with that tiny ray of hope but in comparison to the concussion his current state felt even worse.

He was exhausted down to his bones and so tired. Oh so tired he could have fallen asleep on the spot with the shower still running, cold soothing water cascading down his skin to disappear down the drain. His limbs heavy like lead and feeling so faint as if on the verge of passing out already, right there and then sitting on the small bench.

Jonny dried himself off with uncoordinated hands, forcing himself into action and stumbled back into his room still dizzy as he struggled into his outfit. Some pale blue shorts and a worn out gray T-shirt, that had suffered through so many washing circles, that the fabric started to thin out, smooth enough to not irritate his skin, that felt hyper aware of everything since this disaster started.

By a cheer miracle he managed to not fall down the stairs and crack his head open in the process but it was a close call one too many times for sure, grabbing the keys to his car from the bowl on the sideboard in the hallway. He really shouldn't be driving in his condition, but he dumped caution to the wind and got into the drivers seat. For the first time the driving assistance of his Tesla would be very useful. He had learned his lesson from hitting that EL support beam, even though that didn't validate his current actions. Somehow he even felt magically better with the fresh air of the blazing summer day coming in through the cracked open windows, after fiddling with the air con had been proven to be too difficult for him to operate as of right now. It wasn't much more than a gust of wind but better than no breeze at all. For once Chicago being a windy city made promise on its name. He was still tired but his head felt a little more clear than it had back home while he navigated through the streets on autopilot, nevertheless the sun burned in his eyes despite sunglasses.

Slowly making his way through traffic and over to the parking lot of the United Center, Jonathan was shortly even convinced that nothing was amiss and he was just a little shaken up, like he used to be after coming home late in the night from a road trip jumping several time zones.

But as he turned the key in the ignition to shut off the engine and glanced into the review mirror one last time, he was proven how much of a false statement that was. His face was ashen and already covered in cold sweat again, despite the shower earlier on he was sticky all over. Jonathan pulled his cap lower, until the rim was resting on his glasses and bowed his head as he stepped out of the car, staggering a little from the sudden rush of dizziness and grabbing the door of his Tesla for support to keep himself upright and not bump knees first into the concrete. His leg felt like jello and his fingers were doing the tingly feeling again as if he had touched a high wire.

He sighed. What if someone would have seen?! That would have made the news for sure, with the beats picking at everything they could find to doubt their ability to win the cup and bring Hockey back to Chicago once again.

But it was late morning - Where had the time gone?-, he didn't know how late it was, but past lunch for sure, that the city was buzzing with people. Practice was on it's way if some familiar cars around him were anything to go by. Sure as hell there wouldn't be any press lurking around for the time being.

There better not be, he would never live it down if they caught him this vulnerable.

Jonathan made his way over to the doors, swaying a little unsteady on his feet. He felt terrible, the headache was back along with the dizziness in full force and he had to blink hard to keep the focus of his two feet, setting one in front of the other. If he would make it to the team doctors office, they would set him up with whatever drugs they had at hand and were needed. In no time everything would be fine.

It would be fine.

It had to be!

The heat felt suffocating, almost as if he was sporting a fever to go with the rest, stomach bug-flu-fever or whatever. They better would shove some big pills down his throat to get him back on track and it would all sort itself out.

He was the captain, he had a responsibility, he had to be on the ice! He had to lead his team! He had a job to do and nothing would stop him from bringing the Stanley Cup back home to Chicago, even if just for the sake of proving the Pittsburgh Penguins wrong and shutting up super kid Crosby and his big mouth. He and Sid might be friends on some level off the ice, but once skates were added to the mix that held no meaning at all.

* * *

 „JONNNY!“ Patrick had been running late all morning, after staying up way past midnight analyzing game play. He was finally getting out of his obnoxious Hummer, rushing towards the doors of the facility, when he spotted the hunched figure of his captain and the person he had fallen for dearest probed up at the wall next to the double doors.

With his emotions getting the better of him he decided to come clean with Jonny right now, rather than later. Maybe it was cheer luck that they had meet outside, where Jonny could not hide from him or head off to a team mate. Fuck practice! Q would kick his ass anyway for being horrible late, if he was late because of Jonathan Toews, it wouldn't look that bad at least. Not like Patrick was a lazy bugger which he actually was more often than not. Mornings didn't rank very high on the list of things Kaner enjoyed.

Jonny didn't react to his yelling outburst at all, just stood there leaning next to the door panting heavily as if he had run a marathon to arrive on time - but there was Jonny's Tesla parked just a few spots down from his own vehicle to prove that wrong. He was looking pale even from the distance and Patrick immediately felt horrible for thinking the worst of Tazer for avoiding him, when he clearly wasn't up to speed.

Indeed Jonathan was looking fucking terrible and almost zoned out when Patrick reached him and gently laid his hand on Jonny's arm, giving him a critical once over. Only now did he noticed how Jonathan seemed to be swaying on the spot, eyes hidden behind the sunglasses, the skin under his fingertips, where he was touching his arm, cold and clammy to the touch, bathed in cold sweat.

„Fuck, Jonny!“ Patrick cursed, slinging an arm around Jonathan's waist to keep him upright as he tilted an inch forward almost toppling over in the process. Jonny mumbled something inaudible, he was trying really hard to get the black dots dancing in his vision to disappear and focus on the voice he clearly knew, but couldn't place a name to.

He couldn't loose his shit right now, he was so close to the office. He just had to go in there! But he wasn't even sure anymore, if he was standing or sitting or upside down for all he cared. He wasn't even aware that saliva started to pool in his mouth and dripping down his chin. His mouth felt stuffed and his tongue swollen to a point where he couldn't move it any more. Everything was narrowed down to the unyielding heat, the pain and foggy feeling that seemed to consume him.

„Jonny, whats wrong? Come on answer me?“ Patrick urged, worry raising his voice a pitch above his usual. He took hold of Tazer's arm hooking it across his shoulders to drag him into the building and out of public view, while Jonny's feet struggled to support and walk along side him. He still wasn't talking, his mouth was moving, obviously struggling to form words even though Patrick could tell he was trying really hard to say something, spit was dripping down the corner of his mouth and it actually scared the living shit out of Patrick.

Something was wrong with his best friend. Terrible wrong! This was not Toews being drunk or hungover, this was something serious. So Patrick yelled at the receptionist to get someone from the medical staff right now or to call the fucking ambulance. He didn't care which option, all he knew was Jonny needed help urgently and who ever would answer first was good enough.

She didn't even protest, before pressing some buttons on her phone and talking fast, informing whoever she got her hands on about the situation at hand. She watched Patrick trying to walk Jonathan over to one of the lobby chairs on the far right side, out of view from the doors while telling him, that they would be with them any second before rushing over to his side to help. Patrick smaller as Jonny struggled a little under the pressure of keeping the taller captain on his feet.

Fair enough Patrick could already hear rushed footsteps come running down one of the corridors, as Jonny went limb in his hands and he couldn't help, but let him go down on the floor, supporting his head, to avoid him from hitting the table, since they had almost reached the chairs, but obviously not fast enough to get him settled anywhere more comfortable with a possibility to lay down.

„Jonny, come on, stay with me, say something, anything!“ Patrick pleaded, his voice wobbling with fear and unshed tears. He was terrified, he never wanted to see his Jonny like this, deathly pale, unresponsive. He should be grinning, calling Kaner out on his bullshit, calling him a jerk or whatever else he could come up with, but he wasn't. His weight cradled into Patrick's lap.

Jonathan gasped in his hands, before going all stiff and then started to lash out, his body seizing in Kaner's grip as if possessed by the devil himself. He could hear his teeth grinding, saw his hands shakily curl inwards. Jonny's head jerked off and back into Kaner's lap, almost smacking him right in the nuts.

'Oh fucking shit!' Kaner thought, trying to turn Jonny onto his side, as well as trying to shield him from injuring himself.

The second Kaner shrieked as more spit dribbled down Jonathan's shirt, forming white foam that seemed to pool in his mouth, was also the second the doctors arrived, trying to hold onto Johnny as his body convulsed in Patrick's grip. Four guys on either side trying to let Johnny move but also holding him down firm enough to keep him from trashing all over the place.

„Do something!“ Patrick cried helplessly. The sight was terrifying.

„Keep a hold of his head, turned it to the side, tip it down a little so he doesn't swallow his tongue and keep a grip on his jaw, don't try to force his mouth open, that won't help!“ one of them advised Patrick, who turned to autopilot and did whatever they said, as long as it would help Jonny.

They tended to him as best as they could, while someone had sent for the Coach and an ambulance was called.

Kaner had no idea for how long he had to watch Jonathan's seizing body but he eventually stilled and went lax in their grip as the siren's could be heard in the distance. The tension slipping away, leaving his legs slightly bend inwards and his fingers curled into the palm of his hands so tightly that he made fists.

„What's happening?“ Patrick and Q asked both at the same time, fearing for the worst that Jonathan might be gone.

„Looks like he suffered from a seizure, without knowing what happened before there hardly is anything we can do. He needs to be taken to the hospital.“ one of the medics explained, eyeing Kaner with caution, who obviously was in shock himself, cradling Jonny's head in his lap and stroking his thumb across Jonny's cheekbone, whispering to himself.

„You can do this Tazer, you can do this.“ his voice a sound of pure heartbroken pity.

Q lead the rest of the conversation after, noticing that Patrick wasn't even paying attention or following at all, zoned in on Jonny and Jonny only. Pleading with him to wake up and open his eyes all over again.

Patrick hardly remembered the paramedics rolling unconscious Jonathan on a stretcher and taking him into the ambulance, he didn't even know that they took him with them and gave him something to calm him down, since his body was shaking like a leaf and he looked just as pale as Jonny did. It felt way to unreal. He had no memories of arriving in the ER or being put into a room, or anything else, remaining stoic all the way through.

 What if Jonny was gone?

What if he could never tell him how much he loved him?

What if Jonny would never know how deeply Patrick felt for him?

* * *

 

The next morning, after spending the night in hospital, Patrick jerked awake with a start, sitting up and looking across the room. His eyes landing on the bed beside him, where Jonny was hooked up to several IV's and machines, his eyes heavy but half way open.

„Peekaboo.“ Tazer's voice was rough and he seemed drugged up and dazzled but there was something like a smile tugging at his lip. Patrick more or less jumped out of bed, toddling over to Jonny's bed side almost drunkenly.

„Jonny! Oh Jonny!“ Relief was spreading through Patrick like wild fire. „You are back! You are back. Oh god I'm so glad I love you so much.“ Patrick mumbled to himself, fighting tears and clinging to Jonny's hand, holding it tight but trying not to press onto the tube of the IV that supplied whatever Jonathan's body needed.

It all could have been taken from him within seconds. Jonathan still felt weak and broken, shaken up from the seizure, but he was back. He was back with him, his eyes open, his lips parted and looking a little dried out. He was aware of Patrick's words and his heart jumped, making the heart monitor next to him beat a little faster.

„Kaner.“ Jonny echoed, voice still rough and scratchy from lack of use.

„I thought you would be gone you fucking asshole! Never fucking do this to me again! Fucking hell, you scared the living shit out of me! Fucking call me next time you feel unwell! I will be your nurse for fucking forever as long as you get better.“ Patrick babbled next to him, his hands smoothing over Jonny's with a never ending urgency as if he had to assure himself with every passing second that his Jonny was still there, slumped in the white sheets of the Chicago hospital bed.

„I was a moron and whatever I said, I never was angry at you. I love you too much to be angry with you and fuck Tazer! Just don't ever fucking leave me! You fucking hear me!“ Patrick pleaded. Jonathan laughed a little, the sound almost comical in the eerie silence of the hospital room, as a nurse stepped into their private little moment but didn't seem to mind.

„Mr. Kane, you're up and about that's good. Mr. Toes you're looking better today, how do you feel?“ Jonny cringed at the way she pronounced his last name all wrong. Nevertheless he took a second to assess the situation himself and take stock of his body. His head still hurt, even though not as bad as yesterday. His mouth felt dry and sore but he wasn't nauseous just a little confused and his memory felt kind of broken. He didn't remember anything past throwing his guts up.

„Better.“ he settled for that in the mean time, seeing Patrick smile at his words.

„That's good then, your vitals look stable.“ she said, looking over the different screens of the machines and adjusting the drip. „Well if you don't mind the doctor will be around in an hour, he's having a lot of questions and so are having a few other people waiting outside.“ she said calmly.

„Press?“ Patrick growled looking up with an expression like thunder, ready to bolt and fight for Jonathan being left alone.

„Not the media, Team staff.“ she replied. Patrick and Jonathan both relaxed at that and nodded in agreement. They could deal with that. Once left alone again Jon looked down at Patrick, who still clung to his side like a needy monkey, lifting his hand and messing his curls.

„I love you too fucker!“ Jonny said, seeing the smile he loved so much, blossoming on Kaner's face, before Patrick lifted Jonny's hand he was holding onto and pressed a kiss onto the palm of it.

* * *

Patrick was cleared to leave the same day, while they kept Jonny on ward for another 3 nights of observation. Already getting on everybody's nerves about the food being shit and it being so so boring and whining about how much he wanted to go home with Patrick when Patrick got discharged and proceeded to visit him on a daily basis. After diagnosis and further testing, with Jonny showing no signs of another seizure he was cleared to leave the hospital and supposed to take it easy. So far the episode hasn't occurred again and everybody was hopeful that his brain going bollocks for a moment was just a one time thing. The doctors settled on stress in combination with the summer heat, knocking Jonny senseless, since the later scans didn't show any activity that indicated another epileptic seizure to be expected. They didn't play it down and hooked him onto some precaution med's just to make sure and some follow up scans in the future to keep an eye on things.

„They just want to analyze my hockey brain.“ Jonathan had joked. 

 Patrick however took that way more serious than he might should. He had forced Jonny onto the sofa with advice to not even fucking move an inch and was literally spoiling him from dusk till dawn. He even fixed Jonny's broken AC while he was still in observation.

He wasn't allowed to watch any TV or play any video games yet and should avoid any flash lights, exactly the same stuff he usually would need to do after suffering a concussion, but this time he wasn't bored out of his mind with Patrick keeping him company in his condo.

When Jonathan had been back home from hospital for the first day, his family had been waiting for him and Kaner just picked him up wearing a stupid nurse costume  of all things, just for the fun of it. Jon almost fainted from laughter and had to sit down quickly. Patrick had handed him a bottle of water and panicked for a second, but he assured him fairly fast that everything was ok, apart from Patrick looking like a fucking moron.

„Yeah well Tazer, I love you too.“ Patrick had stressed in his most annoyed voice, before leaning over to the passenger seat and sealing Jonny's lips with a soft shy kiss.

They made up their argument and to be honest, with Jonny feeling better and being on the mend, he could even pretend to feel a little worse for wear just to have Patrick spoiling him. It was so new yet so lovely the way they cared for each other.

* * *

Two days before the first play-off game against the Nashville Predators in the second round of the series took place on home ice, the doctors cleared Jonathan for practice without contact. He might not be able to take part in the cup win, he might be nevertheless. Only time could tell, but him and Patrick were happy just for this little step forward. That didn't keep Patrick from worrying and clinging to his back every night, curled up against Jonny like a little octopus, but neither of both did mind. Jonny loved the way Kaner nuzzled into his neck and whispered 'I love you' last thing at night and first thing in the morning after pressing a kiss on his nose.

 


End file.
